As It Must Be
by Funeral Cake
Summary: The world is falling out of balance and there is only so much Death could do to keep it all intact. It's a good thing he and the other rulers of the afterlife have offspring to help them keep the world intact and relatively sane.
1. Antifreeze

Jack both loved and hated his hometown. He loved the weather most. He loved the icy cold and the cloudy sky. He loved how there was barely any warmth most days and the world around him was a constant hue of bleak gray that just calmed him to the depths of his soul.

He loved the winter most. Loved the days on end where he could just sit on their front porch and catch snowflakes on his palm. He'd always end up discarding his gloves and his sweater, wanting to feel the bonedeep chill that settled something in the depths of his spine. His mother had at first insisted he keep the items on but Jack always complained how they made him too warm and that he didn't feel cold enough in them. It took awhile before she stopped kicking up such a fuss about it realizing that Jack had honestly, never really been bothered by the cold, no matter how low the temperature was.

It didn't make much sense in his mind how the cold seemed more like a gentle hug to him than the biting chill everyone else felt. How it gave him boundless energy when everyone else just wanted to curl around the fire drowsyly. Nevertheless that was how Jack was and he knew from the very start that ice was his best friend.

Best friend. Yeah, that was what he hated about his home town. Seeing as Jack was born to a single mother where no one knew who Jack's father was he was naturally the butt end of all the jokes around. Coupled with his small stature, loud personality and the fact that he seemed to have an uncanny knack for getting the flaws of the people around him that he ended up the town's outcast very early on.

There were, of course early attempts at bullying him but it had been put to a swift stop when he somehow managed to put the fear of god into said bullies with a glare. He was still at the bottom of the social chain that every other person in the world seem to care too much about but it didn't really bother him. The people around him were too uninteresting anyways. Too dull , too conscious, too afraid to truly live and he was really uncaring of what they thought of him.

He probably should have pain more attention. They were clearly afraid of him and he didn't know exactly when that fear turned malicious. So while he wasn't expecting it, it wasn't all that much of a surprise either when at 15 a couple of his classmates cornered him. He cursed himself for being outside so late but he couldn't help but take the long way home because of how heavily it was snowing. He had wanted to enjoy the cold as much as possible.

"Let me go," Jack growled out surprised at the weird rumble of his voice. It almost sounding like a second pitchier voice was talking with him. It had unnerved the jocks around him, and he momentarily felt one of the hands on his arms loosen.

"Witch. We should kill the witch. Before he brings badluck to the town," their little ring leader, one of the most popular kids in school whose name Jack barely remembered, slurred. Jack could almost taste the hatred and disgust coming from him, tinged by fear at the edges and he wondered why he never noticed enough before.

"We should throw him in the lake!" The one hokding jacks left arm responds, holding his arm too tightly. "They used to drown witches right?? Let's throw him in the lake!"

While Jack was definitely stronger than what his lithe frame would make you think he was no match for 5 people. He kicked and struggled but was eventually helpless enough that he was thrown into the frozen lake, crashing into the thin layer of ice and falling into the frozen water bellow.

Jack was therfore surprised to realize that his afinity for the cold might just be a tad weirded than he thought it was. The lake was frozen over at the top. While he had inhaled as much air as he could before he fell, he was expecting it to be knocked out of him the moment the icy water crashed into him. He wasn't expecting the cold to caress him instead. He could feel it seeping into the shoulder he had hurt in his struggle to get their hands off him and to his bruised stomach where they had first punched him.

His lungs were beginning to burn but the cold did nothing to him. He was still dazed when two arms pulled him out of the water and while his lungs thanked the relief, gulping big lungfuls of air a part of him missed being so entomed in the cold that he could feel it with every beat of his heart.

He was dazed and in shock, barely registering the towel being put around him and the voices around asking if he would be okay over the sharp ringing in his ears. It was building up to a crescendo before he instinctively grabbed the person in front of him and pulled the man away.

When he could focus again, he realizes he has pulled the man away and that the part of the lake where they were standing had fallen into the icy water below. The ringing in his ears had stopped and the tension in his chest he didn't even notice was soothed while the man, a police man, looked at him blankly.

Apparently someone had seen the five teenagers shoving Jack into the lake and called the cops. In an instant Jack was a victim and a hero while said five teenagers were sent for juvie halls to face counseling for their actions. Jack had saved a police officer even when he himself almost died (he chose to keep the lack of cold to himself, and fibbed about noticing the ice cracking when he saved the policeman and himself.)

It was late into the night that Jack was driven home by the very policeman he had saved, who gave Jack his number and asked him to call again if ever he was in any kind of danger. His mother had rushed outside to check if he was safe, having been called by the cops earlier to inform her of what happened.

When they finally managed to get inside, after Jack had changed into his own clothing instead of the ones the station lent him earlier to get out of his soaked ones, he and his Mother settled down to have a much needed conversation.

* * *

**An: Right! This!! Umm this is my first try at writing RPF alright? So don't hate too much. Still, my forte is in writing the weird and the wild to the best I could do is a fantasy AU. Ish. Next chapter will explain exactly what Jack is, why the snow loves him and shit. Mark... Won't be around till a few chapters more. **


	2. Anew

"It didn't hurt at all," Jack broached the silence as he sat in the couch with his mother hugging him.

"What do you mean?" she asked after checking him up for the umpteenth time to see if he was really okay.

"The cold. Of the lake. When I fell down? It didn't feel cold at all. It felt.., nice. Like a hug settling deep in my bones," He tries his best to explain to his dear mother what the lake water made him feel. "I actually made me feel better. I could've sworn I sprained my shoulder before I fell into the water... But when the paramedics checked me they said I was perfectly fine..."

His mother met his eyes, frowning seriously as she tried to look for something in his gaze. She must've found what she was looking for because moments later she simply sighed and drew back, eyes softening. "Alright. I guess it is time I told you, isn't it?"

"You aren't human Sean. At least not entirely." While he wasn't expecting that response it simply, clicked. It felt right. It was something he knew all this time at the back of his mind that he never realized or noticed until his mother spoke the words. It explained why he was detached, at best. Why he was distant and cold in many ways possible.

"Then what am I?" He asks instead. There is no denial. No confusion. Nothing but the cold purr in his chest that preens at being different from the pale spirits that walked around him.

"A nephelim." His mother whispered gently, running her fingers through his hair gently, looking at him with pride and adoration. "You are half angel, my Sean. Your father was the pale horseman himself. The Angel of Death." As she said those words cold settled in the pit of his belly. A shadow of apprehension that isn't his.

It felt like a hum of understanding. Of acceptance and finality. Of fear and apprehension settling before ultimately fading into nothing. Like a very dark, hungry abyss at the pit of his stomach that a part of him embraces yet a part of him fears. It was a deep relieved breath that tasted vaguely of musk and old tomes and freedom. It felt true in every sense of the word.

"Sean?"

He is brought back to reality by the tentative words of his mother and he realizes that frost has settled where his fingers were sitting moments ago. The room felt darker all of a sudden, the fireplace spluttering and the cacti sitting on the coffee table had shriveled up and wilted. It made everything all the more real all of a sudden and he felt every bit as overwhelmed as he is accepting of it.

"I.. I can't even.. deny it. I feel it in my bones, who I am. What I am. But.. I.. I can't... I.." He feels the room swirling. He feels darkness closing in at the edges of his vision and he hears his mother's panicked voice calling his name as he fainted.

* * *

He is not at all expecting where he comes to. It isn't in his room in their appartment, or on the couch where he had passed out either. Instead he found himself standing on stark white ground, facing a giant botomless pit before him. The sky was stark red above with sharp black clouds against it and Jack wondered if he was dreaming.

"You aren't." He quickly spun around to find a tall man behind him. In his haste to turn however he sliped and nearly fell down to the emptiness behind him.

His breath rushes out of his chest as cold fear he has never felt before settles down the pit of his stomach. He feels hands grabing him, tugging at his arms and chest, pulliny him deeper and deeper into the dark hunger behind him. A scream builds in his throat but all of a sudden he can breathe. The weight in his chest is gone and the arms all retreat back into the abyss they came from. It takes awhile before he realizes that it was the tall stranger who had saved him. The man had grabbed his flailing hands and pulled him back up off the edge of the pit.

The man steadies him,and while he may look impassive there is a softness in his eyes. "Oh Anti, what do I do with you."

The name the man calls him is wrong. But it doesn't feel like it. His instincts purr at the soft tone the man uses,responding to the name he has never used but knows to the very depths of his being is his. He realizes who exactly is standing before him in that moment.

"Pa." He said, smiling instinctively in the face of Death. He feels something within him shift, and his very being stutters in and out of reality, flitting between life in death in what looks almost like glitching. Slowly he shifts into something else. Something new but still himself.

His complexion pales, sharplyy contrasting the way his hair darkened. His ears elongate and his fangs and ears sharpen. His eyes twinged, brightening into a bright blue and all of a sudden he sees clearly. He feels so much more clearly now too. As if the murk of being human is gone.

"Hello Anti. I see your mother has told you everything." Death's voice is light, almost wispy. Fond but distant and Sean.., Anti, regards how he looks. He is tall yet wiry, their builds very much similar, with pale white skin and empty void eyes. He is in a business suit, well taylored and form fitting, and as black as Death's eyes. Green fire burns the top of his hair like glowing highlights and his shoulders would randomly catch fire before fizzling out.

Sean slowly approached before he hugged Death gently, feeling the fire on his fathers shoulders and realizing it was cold as ice instead, sinking into his core and calming him the way nothing else does. The fire sinks into him and all of a sudden he feels none of the lethargy from the long day. He is ready to jump around and work and talk and he pulls back to grin at his father, bouncing at the balls of his feet.

The man simply huffs in amusement, petting his hair. "Sean. Anti. My firstborn. You have grown well."

Anti preens, grinning. "I take after you, Pa! Of course I'll grow well!"

Death chuckles at that, pulling green fire into his hands before laying it on Sean's right temple. It feels cold as it seeped into his eyes. "Don't think I've forgotten, child. You have almost died today." He scolds Anti who pouts childishly but keeps his eyes closed as the fire still seeps into it. "But it has allowed me to visit you and for that I am thankful."

I'm sorry Pa. I wasn't paying enough attention," Sean mumbles. "I'm glad I got to meet you though."

"I shall be around, Anti. Now that you understand who you are and who I am it will be much easier for me to visit. I have always kept an eye on you, you know that." It made him beam at his father who has finally let go of his temple. It takes a couple of moments for Anti's eyes to adjust but when it does he notices that his right eye's vision flickers.

"This is my gift to you, so that we may never meet this way again," Death explains. "You have always had an instinctive grasp on the emotions of the people around you, yes? Well, this allows you to condense that. That ability of yours, as with all your other abilities will grow as you age, Sean. You will learn how to use these abilities in time. This right eye of yours however, is a bit of a cheat. I've essentially matured it first, maturing your abilities within it. Through this you can do more than simply glimpse at the feelings of the people around you. This instead gives you glimpses of their soul. Be mindful of when you use it though, Anti. Your eye will shift form as you harness this ability."

"Pa, thank you." Anti mumbles softly and Death smiles at him again.

"Go on now, Anti. Return to your body. Your mother will start worrying soon. Go now, and remember. You are my son. The Child of Death."

* * *

**An: Woot! So here it is. Son of death himself. Sean's a half angel here. I wanted to write a fic where, Anti was a part of Jack. Anti is Jack. And Jack is Anti. And they're one and the same but not quite. I'll explain it later on a different chapter.****Enjoyed it? Leave a comment?****Please???**


	3. Settle

Sean wakes up confused. All of a sudden the world is muted again. He is back on the couch he had passed out on and his body feels too sore and too tight all at once. His mother is squeezing the life out of him and something cold flickers in his chest. When he has focused enough to look at his mother, icy coolness has settled behind his right eye and he sees his mother but he sees so much more.

He sees warm gold like honey and hot chocolate around a crackling fire in the darkest night of winter. He sees gentle kindness and earnestness and resolve. If this was what his father sees when he looked at her he understood how they got together. His mother was amazing and he hugged her again as he took it in.

"I met him." He said when his mother has finally calmed down. "I met Pa. He, he gave me a gift. He said it was so that I won't find myself that close to his domain again."

His right eye flashes and he is unsure of what his mother sees, having not seen his reflection yet, but she tears up and hugs him once more. "He said he's looking out for me, Ma. You don't have to worry too much. Please stop crying?"

"A..Alright honey, I'm sorry." She sniffles but breathes deeply, sighing in relief as she hugs him tighter before pulling away. "Did you have a nice talk?"

"He.. he's so cool Ma," Jack grins and recount most of what happened as he talked to his father. She is smiling as they talk, teary eyed and a tad wistful but happy and all of a sudden Sean realizes that she is still very much in love with his Father. It's soft and sweet and bitter, knowing that a human cannot be with an angel like that. Not while she lives at least.

"Ma? Can I dye my hair green?,"he asked out of the blue.

She gives him a knowing smile, understanding exactly why Sean wants to do it. She easily allows him. He needs to do this. It's his way of getting closer to his father.

"You can, Sean... But just because it's green."

"I have one last question, Ma," Sean said, wondering how to say it. "Why does Pa call me Anti?" Even as he says the name, something inside him stirs. Something in his chest flickers tightly.

Her eyes soften again, going distant as if remembering a memory. "It's what he named you. We agreed that on paper your name would be something of my choosing. Your mortal name. But your real name, that which is you... Your father chose that. You are Anti, my child. Son of Death."

They are both surprised when he stutters in and out of existence again and part of him wonders if it is because he is half of the living and half of the dead before he feels the familiar feeling of his body changing. It is not entirely as comfortable as when he was talking to his father, and he still feels somewhat confined but not as much.

"Oh." When he talks there is a weird echo to his voice, of something there but not quite and he wonders if there is more to his theory of being here and not all at once. Schrodinger's glitch.

His mother looks at him in awe, looking at him gently and Sean, Anti grins in return. He feels almost distant like this, doesn't feel all that human. But it's his Ma in front of him and no mater what his shape, no matter how sharp all of the edges feels, this is his Ma and she is all he has in this world. The rest of the world feel like scum but his Ma is still a bright, warm beacon he can bask in.

"You look beautiful honey." She said softly and his sharp grin turns into a smile. He feels his body flickering again, slowly reverting and distantly Jack wonders how long it would take for him to master shifting between forms. It would be a bitch in a half if he accidentally glitches in public.

He opes his mouth to say something but his words devolve into a jaw breaking yawn. His body feels worn, like it's been stretched too thin, stuffed in a cramp box then brought out to stretch again.

"You should get some rest, Seán. It's been a long day," he hears his mother say, tugging him up the stairs so he could get some proper rest.

The rest of his abilities can wait. For now, his bed was calling.

* * *

**AN: So, a bit more explanation on Anti/Jack/Seán. And a bit more character building? Ish?****We'll finally get to Mark on the next chapter!!! Yes!**


	4. Quest

Jack eventually gets a good enough grasp at what being Death's son meant for him. What the doctors before had diagnosed as tonitis was actually his link to his father telling him of when someone was about to die. Or rather, it was his body's way of telling him if his father or one of his father's many reapers were nearby. It took a while to get used to it. Specially when something within him told him that he cannot interfere.

He cannot stop Death. He cannot save everyone. The world needs it's balance after all.

There were some special cases however. Where one of the nearby reapers or sometimes even his father would approach him. Would tell him that it wasn't time and he would be asked to step in, as a mortal, to save whoever it was who wasn't supposed to die yet. His father called it glitches. Moments when one of the many nephilims and cambions that roamed the earth does something that affects the balance. Death said Jack has done something similar on that day he almost drowned, saving the police man and he cannot help but feel guilt for making his father's work harder. The pale horseman simply smiled fondly at his son and said he has repaid it in due, saving all the people he had.

It was actually easy enough for Sean to help, considering the abilities being death's son afforded him. He could, for short bursts of time be intangible and invisible. It was something his father could do indefinitely but it taxed on his body to do it constantly. Sure the more he used it, the longer the duration he could do so increased, he had to be careful. He had overdone himself once before and had to be brought to a hospital as he fainted. The doctors had asked if he was starving himself considering how depleted his blood sugar levels were and he had to face a lecture with his father while he was passed out.

Another of his abilities, which he positively adored was his growing affinity for ice. Where at first he was merely resistant to the cold, he has learned to form ice. It started as a way to regulate his body temperature in the summer but had later evolved into full-on cryokinesis that he adored, even when his ma sometimes called him Jack Frost because of it.

He had asked his father about it, wondering why he had ice when his father was almost literally on fire, but Death simply smiled. Jack watched the ground beneath his father's feet chill, spreading outwards the longer he went with it.

"There is a reason why they call Death cold, my childe." He said. "You are simply, much more attune with that side of me."

The hardest of his abilities for him to get a hang on was actually himself. His form flickered from time to time and it took him several accidents and a lot of trial and error to realize what made him change. It was in how human he felt. How much he felt like Jack and how much he felt like Anti. Perhaps it was unhealthy to seperate both sides of himself, and even name them but he certainly felt like different people sometimes.

Being Anti made him feel a bit like a loose cannon. The cautiousness and inhibitions Jack had, that he learned growing up was all forgotten. Anti was honest, almost impulsive and somewhat childish not because he was stupid but because he didn't care for what was and wasn't acceptable behaviour. He didn't give two shits what was considered polite behaviour and conduct. Anti was the son of Death and at the end of the day, everyone answered to his father no matter how polite or rude they were.

He had a hard time hiding who and what he was for the longest time. That he had greater strength and speed sure didn't help matters. It was so easy to forget and crush things he shouldn't or accidentally move too fast when reacting instinctively. He was more durable too and he always thought he was one accident away from being found out. Not to mention how he was always pale and ice cold no matter where he went and how much the sun shone on him. It's a good thing they were in Ireland where the sun barely shone. Being as pale as he was in somewhere sunny was just asking to be noticed. It wasn't that he was exactly inconspicuous though. His keener senses and soul sight already made him different enough. He came across as somewhat judgey sometimes, because of how his soul sight worked. Add in the instinctive fear people had of being near him - of being near death. It was only his reputation as a hero, having saved many people (those who weren't supposed to die) that pushed away most of the scrunity. Or at least made him bearable in society's eyes.

It was weird. No one wanted him near them. He was too unnerving. But everyone regarded him warmly because of how many people they knew he saved. Jack had a feeling that people instinctively felt that he wasn't one of them.

He and his mother had been talking about what they could do about it, really.

* * *

He was dreaming again, back into the abyss of the world that was where his spirit roamed. He was looking into the deep pit that he now knew held most of the souls his father gathered. He listened to the distant roiling and squirming when he felt a presence behind him. Or well two presences actually.

He turned slowly, having learnt his lesson years ago and found his father along with someone else. Someone new. He was a tall man, built like a mountain of muscle, scarred and tan and such a contrast to his father. His hair was on fire too, a fiery red that flickered atop pitch black locks. He was dressed in tattered jeans and a black shirt ripped at the sleeves in a makeshift wifebeater.

"Anti," his father called and he stood to attention, grinning his too sharp grin at his father. "This is the great general of hell, the red horseman War. War, this is my childe, Anti."

"Pleasure," Anti greeted with a grin, folding his legs to sit cross legged mid air, knowing now just what his soul can do when here in his fathers realm and not limited by his mortal body.

"We need your help kid," War said, red eyes digging into Anti with a matching grin that had way too many teeth.

* * *

"So let me get this straight," Anti said with a thoughtful frown. "A huge anomaly is up in America, and you're son, whose older than me, isn't equipped to deal with it. But you think I can?" Anti didn't know whether to preen or be worried, looking at War.

"Dark... Dark's been suppressing his demon side." War admits it and Anti hears guilt in his voice. There's something there, something that happened that pushed the cambion to hating his other half. A part of Anti itches to figure out what it is.

"How exactly do I move to the US?" Anti finally asks the technicalities after a few minutes of thinking. He has made up his mind and he knows the two ancient beings before him know it.

"Let me handle that," War grins. "While your father may not be allowed to interfere with mortals, I am. It's a good thing you're smart Anti, you'd actually be in the same level as Dark."

"War will handle everything, from your papers to where you'll be staying. Seeing as you are underage, his human persona will be acting as your guardian. He is, in a sense, your uncle after all." Death pitches in. "The school year starts in two months time Anti, you'll have to spend as much time with your mother as you can. She won't be able to come with you."

"Yes pa." Anti nodded. It seems he would have to move to America soon.


End file.
